The Midnight Intruder

Sarah woke up in the middle of the night, feeling a chill run down her spine.

She rubbed her arms, trying to warm herself up, but the cold seemed to seep into her bones.

She turned over, expecting to see her husband sleeping next to her, but instead, she saw a figure that wasn't there before.

It was a man, lying next to her, his back turned towards her.

She couldn't see his face, but she could feel his breath on her skin, like a cold breeze.

She tried to scream, but no sound came out.

She felt like she was trapped in a nightmare, unable to move or escape.

She closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them again, the figure would be gone.

But when she did, it was still there, breathing softly next to her.

She could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady, like he was in a deep sleep.

She tried to wake her husband, but he wouldn't budge.

She shook him, screamed at him, but he remained motionless, like he was under a spell.

The figure next to her seemed to be growing stronger, more solid.

She could feel his body heat, like he was a living, breathing man.

But she knew that he wasn't.

There was something off about him, something that made her skin crawl.

She tried to get out of bed, but the figure's arm shot out and grabbed her, pulling her back.

She felt his breath on her neck, like a whisper.

"Stay," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "Stay with me."

She tried to scream, but he covered her mouth with his hand.

She could feel his fingers pressing into her skin, like they were trying to suffocate her.

She closed her eyes and prayed for it to be over, for the figure to disappear and leave her alone.

But when she opened them again, he was still there, his eyes gleaming in the dark.

She knew then that she had to fight, that she couldn't let the figure win.

She grabbed his arm and twisted it, feeling it snap under her grip.

The figure howled in pain and disappeared, as he had never been there at all.

She sat up in bed, gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

She looked over at her husband, who was still sleeping soundly, completely unaware of what had just happened.

She knew that she would never forget the figure, that he would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.

She knew that he was something otherworldly, something that she couldn't explain or comprehend.

She tried to tell her friends and family, but they dismissed her as crazy, telling her that it was just a nightmare, that she was imagining things.

But she knew better.

She knew that what she had experienced was real, that it had happened to her and her alone.

Years went by, but she could still feel the figure's presence, like a cold breeze on the back of her neck.

She never forgot the fear and terror that had consumed her that night, and she knew that she would never truly be safe again.

She learned to live with the fear, to accept it as a part of her life.

But deep down, she knew that the figure was still out there, waiting for her to let her guard down.

And she knew that when he returned, she would have to fight with everything she had, or risk losing herself to the darkness forever.